Chapter Twenty-Four #3
With slight difficulty, I slid his hard length out of his briefs, his warm skin perfect and rigid against my grip as I stroked him, my hand giving attention to the head of his cock as he leaked out precum that added lubrication up and down his shaft.
We were quiet, kissing softly but lazily, without focus, our hands working on each other—slight hitch of breaths from either him or me.
When his fingers increased tempo, pumping in and out of me, I followed the same sequence with my stroking, and we broke the kiss apart, his forehead resting on mine as we breathed through our mouths, feverish and intimate with our movements completely concealed between us.
The sounds he made were low and lust-filled, his lashes beautifully down, watching my hand stroke him and the movements of his hand inside my shorts.
He was so hard and, like me, so close to the edge.
We made it last longer to enjoy the pleasure we gave each other.
Still, the force with which he began pumping his fingers into me had my knees buckling, my hips meeting his thrusts.
My stomach was woven so tight, alongside my clit, and I was shuddering before him at how good it felt—it didn’t take long before my walls gripped his fingers tight, and I was coming all over them, a moan escaping my lips, my legs growing so weak, standing became a chore as I gripped his shirt, my cries breaking as I rode his fingers down my high.
When I was a little calmer but still in a daze from my release, he took his fingers out of me and brought them to his lips, licking them clean, before bringing his lips to mine in a kiss that had me tasting myself on him.
His tongue tasted like me, and he tasted like mine, and I got drunk on it, on him, before he pulled his lips from mine, and I watched him, my hands still moving against his hardness. “This was not what I planned, coming here today.”
“I loved your shorts a lot,” he admitted.
“Really?”
“Hm. I love whatever you wear,” he admitted again, his stare deep and piercing. “I love whatever you do, and however you look. Drives me crazy every time, and I love it.”
I smiled, going down on my knees before him, and raised my gaze as hooded eyes looked back down at me while I took him in my mouth, earning a groan as his hands went to my hair.
Sucking and twirling my tongue around the head of his cock, I took him as deep as he could go, letting my tongue lay flat inside my mouth to aid his thick length moving farther down as I hollowed the inside of my mouth, sucking him to fervent curses.
He was so undone, fighting to be quiet as I worked on him, cared for him, and teased him with my tongue the way he liked.
His fingers caressed my scalp in silent appreciation as I moved up and down his length, his thickness filling my mouth, his taste driving my senses wild—I wanted him inside me; I wanted to get tangled up in a sheet with him until I didn’t know where my body ended and where his began.
I wanted to make love to him, fuck him, ride him, suck him, touch him, kiss him, take him till I was sore and broken. I wanted to own him, and I wanted so very much for him to own me.
I knew he was already so close, but I tried to edge him a bit before letting him hit the back of my throat—in a few thrusts, his orgasm struck, spurts of cum shot down my throat, and I dutifully swallowed. I loved it; I loved getting on my knees for him and having him in my mouth.
I loved that I got to do this and not someone else. Sometimes, I wished I could read the minds of all the women who ogled him whenever we were in a public place; I needed to know who exactly I would be plucking eyeballs from.
When I got to my feet again, we kissed as he tucked himself back in, putting his arm around me—so mundane, so natural.
My heart was racing just being close to this man like this.
He broke the kiss but didn’t let go of me. “I missed you all morning, but I did not want to disturb you … I knew you were tired.”
My hand on his biceps picked off invisible lint from his shirt. “Did you even get to sleep?”
“Hm, no. But I plan to sleep tonight.”
“You shouldn’t plan to sleep, you should sleep every night; it’s what normal people do.”
“I am not normal people.”
I raised a brow. “What? You got some superpower I don’t know about?”
“Yes…” he drawled.
“What is it?”
“I know how to make you squeal.”
“Wh—”
He lifted me suddenly, and a loud squeal left my mouth as he dropped me on the table, placing himself between my legs.
“That was so fucking cheesy.”
A smile gently curved his lips, lighting up his eyes as he said softly, “It made you squeal, did it not?”
I rolled my eyes. “It did.” I played with the collar of his shirt, his gaze lingering on me like he couldn’t look away. “What?” I asked; his stare wasn’t unnerving, just—heavy, so heavy it made me feel heavy too.
“You are adorable,” he answered, and the compliment went straight to my chest, making it feel all fluffy and weird, like I was levitating or something. I didn’t even know why my toes wanted to curl.
For some reason, I wanted to shy away from his gaze. “What’s up with you today?” I asked with a smile of my own, one I couldn’t even stop from forming on my lips if I tried.
He shook his head and wrapped his arms around my body until we were pressed together.
He buried his head in the crook of my neck, breathing me in deeply.
“Zahra,” he called my name softly, in a small, breathy way that told me he wasn’t calling for me to answer him; he was just saying my name like he was sinking into the very essence of me.
Against my chest, I could feel the fast pacing of his heart, wild and raging, a copy of mine, but his was so fierce that it had me falling even deeper into him—for him.
This felt good; a comfortable silence of him holding me, so warmly, so intimately, like it would break him to pull away—right now, a lot was unsaid, but plenty was shown.
Plenty was felt, and I allowing my body to grow soft against his, wrapping my arms around him and letting the feelings take charge of the moment.
I was falling for this man, without sequence, without grip, a free fall that came with fear, passion, and something mind-twinkling—but for the first time since I felt this soft connection with him, I didn’t pull away, I pulled in.
Because I needed this feeling, I craved it like food for my soul—a secret potion to keep me sane and functioning.
For a fever of a moment, all was forgotten—the reason I had set a course for this journey; my life before I met him—before I knew him—was forgotten. All I wanted right now was to be in his arms, to stay here, and let him kiss my flaws back to perfection.
So, I let myself free-fall into him until my mind knew nothing—absolutely nothing, but him.